Haut-le-coeur
by LilyAmelia
Summary: Knight and pirate try to have a civil conversation, when Hook helps Charming with a little problem. One-shot.


**Haut-le-coeur**

Knight and pirate try to have a civil conversation, when Hook helps Charming with a little problem. One-shot.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. Not even a sextant.

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"Drink up." Hook slid a pewter tankard across the mahogany table that stood in the middle of a spacious cabin. David caught it between his curved palms. "It'll do you a world of good."

David peered into the mug warily. The thought of drinking something offered by the pirate disturbed him. The fact that he _needed _to - well, on the bright side, he could not feel more nauseous than he already did.

Hook, sensing David's hesitation, rolled his eyes and sighed. Resting his arms on the back of a chair, he leaned forward until he was at eye-level with the knight. "It's a remedy for what ails you. Seasickness is a tricky business when you're, you know...at _sea_." Hook kept his voice level, but David heard his sarcasm strain against the patient front he was trying to put on. "I've cured a fair share of my crew with that. It _does_ work."

He had to give him that: the pirate _was_ trying. _Trying to kill me, _David thought (slightly) ungenerously, as he scowled at the tall mug. "Seasickness amongst the crew of a pirate ship?" He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Should a temporary weakness prevent one from seizing the moment?"

_Seizing the moment._ David snorted. Stuck on a rocking boat as the thought of drowning nestled itself way too comfortably in his subconscious was certainly not what he would describe as _seizing the moment._ He was about to retort when a wave of nausea shook him to the core and he squeezed his eyes closed, forcing himself to take deep, slow breaths.

Hook had found him an hour earlier, huddled up behind a pile of wooden crates. David's pale face and grunted replies to his enquiries were enough to confirm the captain's diagnosis of seasickness, for which he claimed he had a cure.

A cure David was currently bringing towards his lips with a resigned sigh, as the captain observed him from the other side of the table, a look strangely resembling ... _concern_ etched on his features.

"Oh, _hell,_ Hook," David sputtered, as the bitter liquid ran down his throat. Hot tears prickled behind his eyelids. _Oh, no, you don't. You've made a fool of yourself quite enough for today. _He coughed twice in an attempt to expel the less-than-savory flavors_. "_It's really _foul_. What's in it?"

"Family secret," was the smug reply. "Plenty of rum, though."

David shot the captain an irritated glare, and tried to forget the lingering acridness in his mouth. Despite being utterly disgusting, the pirate's brew, whateverthe_ hell _itwas, proved to be rather effective. His nausea was fading, and he actually felt capable of standing up without feeling the need to empty his insides on the polished planks.

Family secret. He studied the pirate out of the corner of his eye, and tried to associate the man with the concept of family. Somehow, he could not picture Hook as a child - in his mind, he had popped up out of nowhere one day on the deck of the Jolly Roger, ordering his crew around and shouting pirate jargon while dressed in leather and cockiness.

Who was Hook, if not a pirate? He darkly recalled his advances directed at Mary Margaret and bristled. Leery jerk.

He lifted the tankard "Family secret, huh. Didn't figure you as a _seasickness_ kind of man."_  
_

"_Oh_. I'm not." Hook would have sounded almost offended, were it not for the bullish smirk. "I was practically raised on boats."

Suddenly, child pirate Hook did not seem so ludicrous, after all. David found himself, against all odds, interested in the dark-haired man's history - where were the parents, the siblings?

"My father used to take me out to sea. He would put me in his sail boat and he would spend the day teaching me about ships, sails and navigation...which is rather ironic, as he had it worst than you do," he nodded in David's direction. "He drank gallons of that stuff. He taught me how to make it - in case I grew out of my natural tolerance for seafaring." His subsequent eye-roll told David that a sudden love of tweed would be a more likely occurrence.

"Was he a pirate like you?" _How do these things work anyway? Father-son legacy? Family business?_

The small smile which had slowly crept into Hook's features fell instantly. "No. He left me on a ship when I was a lad. A fugitive, they told me. I awoke one morning and he was gone." A blank look crossed his features and he shook his head. "Déjà vu," he muttered, preoccupied.

"How about your mother?" The question escaped his lips before he could stop himself.

Hook shrugged. "She didn't stick around long enough for me to make memories, it would seem. All I remember is a vague - quite enchanting - humming and the smell of sea salt. What is this, mate," he brusquely turned to David, discomfiture battling against his cool exterior, "a job interview?"

_Ha_. He was the last person David would trust with any job. Well - third last. The second last was a power-hungry evil queen who happened to be his grandson's mother, and the _last_ person he would trust with a job was a power-hungry evil imp who happened to be his grandson's grandfather. _Other_ grandfather.

His heart clenched briefly at the ridiculousness, and dare he say it, hopelessness of their situation. _No. Get a hold of yourself, David._ He was Prince Freaking Charming, damn it, and Henry had nothing to worry about. They would come for him.

"You're a king. Or so I've heard." Hook interrupted his musings. "You've really never sailed on a ship before?"

David fidgeted, feeling strangely judged. "I prefer grassy plains, personally. Less chance of drowning. You might be fine with the ocean, but I grew up with land under my feet and I plan on leaving this Earth the same way."

Hook let out a chuckle at that. He studied David for a moment, before suddenly leaning forward in an almost conspiratorial manner. "Do you know what's happening right now, mate?" he said in a low voice.

David frowned. "What?"

"We're bonding." And he winked.

_Oh god._ David looked at him in horror. "No, we're not!" he huffed, irrationally irritated that the snickering pirate had a point. He had not realized until then how much he missed male companionship that was Rumple-shaped. Pity the alternative was smug and Hook-shaped, instead.

The pirate wanted to talk? Fine. There were some things he had wanted to discuss with him, anyway.

David rubbed his temple. "Look, Hook. I don't particularly like you-"

"That's a pity," Hook drawled. "I was looking forward to braiding your hair and telling you my deepest, darkest secrets." He received an icy glare, and smirked in return.

"But Emma," David went on, teeth clenched, "for some reason, trusts you- and I trust her judgment."

"Ooh, aren't I the luckiest man alive?"

David had been studying Hook, waiting to catch his reaction, and the pirate did not disappoint. Despite his cool retort, there was no missing the way his head tilted just slightly to one side at the mention of Emma, the way he sat just a little straighter. These observations irked the father in him, but he brushed them aside.

"I've seen the way you look at her." The nausea having left him completely, he pushed the tankard away and stood up. He hoped for a denial, for a scoffed 'what the hell are you on about, mate?' - but the pirate was not about to give him that satisfaction. "I know I've lost my right to tell her what she can or can't do, to interfere with her decisions, whether I like them or not. She's not a child anymore."

Because if David were honest with himself-

Well, that was not a state of mind he was naturally inclined towards- hey, man of (usually noble) action, here- but it was one he actively tried to avoid since the whole curse fiasco started. Storybrook David's actions had not exactly filled him with pride, but it was still _him_. And he had come to terms with that.

But if he were being honest with himself, he would have to admit to noticing the way Emma _did not_ look at Hook. His daughter, just like him, was a woman of action- and that particular lack of action told him more than anything she could possibly say.

He approached the cabin door, and faced the black-clad captain seated a few feet away, who was looking rather pensive. "But she _is_ my daughter. And if you hurt her, Hook- I swear to you, a shot in the face will be the least of your problems." As the words left his lips, David knew he would keep his promise.

The two men stared at each other, as the threat hung in the air. Hook broke the silence with a brief nod, a hint of humor - surprisingly genuine - in his eyes. "I would expect nothing less, _Your Majesty_."

"Good." David cracked the door open. "Her mother is sublime with a bow and arrow. Flawless aim," he added wickedly, as Hook flinched.

David slipped out of the cabin, almost, but not quite, missing the pirate's pained "so I've seen".

You should not bite the hand- or hook- that feeds you. He knew that. If it were not for Mr. Leather-and-attitude, he would still be huddled in a corner of the Jolly Roger, wishing a mermaid would flop on board and put him out of his misery.

But, god. This was _Hook_. In this hell-hole of a land, where traps sprung up from every corner and tempers ran high, his daily verbal sparring with Hook was familiar, almost...soothing. Could he _really_ be blamed for latching on to the tiny comfort of torturing the pirate?

With an irritated groan, David popped his head back in the cabin.

"Hook?"

The pirate's eyes snapped up, blue and earnest, disturbingly un-villainous. _Wolf, I see your sheep's clothing_. Nevertheless, he shoved aside his reservations.

David cleared his throat. "Thanks," he told him gruffly. "I..." Owe you one? Never_._ "Won't forget it." Yeah, because that's _so_ much better.

Hook's smirk flushed all burgeoning thoughts of goodwill from David's mind. With an eye roll, he slammed the cabin door shut.

To think that, not too long ago, he would have been delighted at the prospect of having a ship captain as a son-in-law.

How foolish.

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**A/N: **This was written before the season 3 premiere, but I stumbled upon a writer's block. Yes, writer's block for a one-shot. How sad. Anyway, this was the finished product, which, as usual, took a completely different direction from what I'd originally intended. It is rather similar to another one-shot I wrote, Musings on a pirate ship, but I hope I wasn't _too_ redundant. Oh well. Hope you guys enjoyed it anyway

Reviews and constructive criticism are like hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows!


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